Knights
Nazili approaches the clerics of the Sun, bowing to them as she gets closer. “Glad to have you three joining us.” The leader of the group, Sir Evrardin nods, his helm still not removed, before responding, "The sooner we are to the surface, the sooner you may truly thank us." He wanders to the edge of camp, peering warily into the darkness. The knight with the long black hair, currently tending to a few of Arrishon's wounds looks up energetically, "Don't mind Evrardin. He gets glummy. MY name's Jackie, Sir Jackie. And this here," she gestures to the third knight, "Is Sir Wymond." Wymond raises a hand in greeting, smiling through many hard-won creases on his middle-aged face. Both have not bothered donning their helms, unlike their superior, who has yet to have removed it. All wear heavy plate armor. Nazili smiles. "Nice to meet you. Since we're going to be traveling for some time together, I would like to get to know you all." Nazili sits down and crosses her legs. "Are you two native to Sandholm?" Sir Jackie finishes bandaging a wound on Arrishon and turns to face Nazili, "My mum's from a village north of Sandholm, but no, we're from Oradaia." Wymond nods and adds gruffly from under a large moustache, "Sir Evrardin is from Easteran." Jackie looks back towards the senior knight before leaning in to Nazili, "To be fair we don't really know much about Sir Evradin other than his devout vows" "Enough Jackie." Sir Wymond interrupts her. Nazili overlooks the somewhat awkward exchange between the two knights. “How does the Church work in Sandholm?” Sir Wymond responds faster than Jackie, the latter having opened their mouth to respond too slowly, “The Church of Lathander has been assisting many in Oradaia since the onset of the Feast of Dust, but when we heard there was an influx of undead to the south, the Archpriest sent us to deal with it. We didn’t expect the wights to be so... numerous. The fact a necromancer was behind it wasn’t too surprising, but her ability to gather so many, now that was a surprise. When we arrived Damian was barely holding on to ther Temple district. Bloody good strategist that one is. He’s held the Spear Road from the undead through the whole catastrophe. Runs straight from the Red Crescent to the House of Kings.” Jackie nods as he says this. “We just want to see the city come out on top.” Nazili listens to their words with intrigue. She lets out a small sigh as they mention Damian's name. "So... Damien Kole... What are your thoughts on the man? Does he lead Sandholm well?" "He is a strong leader." Wymond muses. "It would have fallen long before had he not cut short the bickerings of the nobility. They in place of the king, ruled for a short term, it was a disorienting mess before we arrived. One week we'd be recieving pleas for help and the next ridicule for giving them our sympathies. Damian was well respected by the captain of the guard, Sir Ambrose Muiris, knighted by Damian's father. The two were raised like brothers. He helped Damian take the leadership by force. A necessary move. The nobles were leading the city like a cockatrice with it's head lopped off." Jackie nods repeatedly, and adds energetically, "I'd put money on the city falling months ago if it weren't without the help of the guard under Damian. Sure you had the vigilantes in the Red Crescent, but they only seemed to make matters worse, raid merchants fleeing the city, attack mercenaries hired out by Damian and the guard. Damian is not what I'd call a holy man, but he was the only thing standing between his people and the horrors that live under our feet," she looks over at Flynt, "Even when they were striking against him." "And what do his people think of him? The commonfolk? Does he treat them well?" "He's their protector." Wymond answers. "May be... but does he put the interests of his people above his own?"